I am here Dreaming of wastes gone by and your eyes. I am leavening the course of my winter each stroke seasons me to know the reasons for my failure and for my keeping on; each monument to my disasters written in the water turning around my face as I drown What have I seen? What ocean dream above the waves, the sky matter, and firmament Newton would plot the wrecks of the chiefs plummeting from the sky the calculus of mars, and his many guards, falling away from the earth.